


Approach

by Speckielishious



Series: Events of Massacre (EoM) [2]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Backstory, Bonding, Child Abandonment, Other, Past Abuse, Pyrovision, Slice of Life, implied romantic feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-10-10 20:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20534342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speckielishious/pseuds/Speckielishious
Summary: After everything that has happened in such a short time Sylvia thought it would be best to observe her ‘bodyguards’. If anything they were all strangers to her. She didn’t know how to approach them nor did she want to cause them anymore trouble. But if she is to live with them she needs to give them each a chance…





	1. Sylvia in Pyroland

**Author's Note:**

> After months of SO MANY GOD DAMN REWRITES for the next chapter of my main story these are my attempts at a bit of character building through a bit of slice of life interludes that can either branch out of or into the main EoM story and into other interludes as a sort of 'soft cannon'. 'Approach' is mostly in Sylvia's perspective but can shift into the mercenaries perspectives at any point with how weird my writing can be and will be released in no particular order. (Meaning when it gets done)
> 
> I'm also considering moving 'Waking Pains' into its own interlude separate from the main story so let me know if all of 'this' is a good idea.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvia approaches Pyro and is brought into the happy place known as Pyroland!

When Sylvia saw Pyro on the first day she felt the most uncertain maybe even afraid. She walked into the lounge one late evening to find Pyro transfixed on the fireplace staring at the fire intently. Occasionally gleeful laughter escaped through the filters of the mask as Pyro would wiggle with joy. Sylvia tried to get Pyro’s attention only for it to divert back to the fire. Pyro offered for her to sit next to the fire with them.

Sylvia looked at the flames within the ornate fireplace for a while then her eyes drifting to the mantel gazing at an old painted portrait of her grandfather. Even as a painting seeing the cold indifference of her grandfather's gaze burned through her like an ant under the looking glass reminding her of the expectations she must uphold and everything that could be lost if she fails. Pyro tapped her shoulder breaking her from her thoughts. She looked at the masked mute who seemed to be in their own little world. Pyro’s head tilted in curiosity.

Sylvia: “Is there something you wanted?”

Pyro: Huddah...

If Pyro had said anything she couldn’t understand it. Pyro then pulled out a big pink unicorn plush that looked like a character from a children’s book or show. Pyro’s hand reached over her face covering her eyes then handed the plush to her. When Pyro lifted their hand from her face and right before her eyes the room was brighter, bubbles floated in the air, the ornate fireplace now looked like solid candy and the fire that was in it was a swirling mass of rainbows and glittery sparkles. She could taste the sugar in the air as her mouth gaped in awe as she stood up holding the plush toy. Pyro looked at her bouncing with joy.

Pyro: “So Balloonicorn was right about you.”

Sylvia: “What is all this? Are we still in Rockside? And why couldn’t i understand you until now.”

Pyro: “Oh sorry, i forgot this is your first visit. Welcome to Pyroland!”

Sylvia: “Pyroland?”

Pyro: “Uh huh Pyroland! A world where everything is fun and everyone is always happy!

Sylvia: “Is this how you see everything all of the time?”

Pyro: “Only when there’s fire around, fire is everyone’s friend. Which is why i try to spread it to everyone.”

Sylvia: “Oh, i suppose that’s why they call you Pyro. But why can i understand you now when i couldn’t before?”

Pyro: “Oh that’s because i speak Pyro-nese a language that can only be understood here in Pyroland.”

Sylvia: “I suppose that makes it’s own kind of sense…”

Balloonicorn: “Try not to think too far into it Sweetie, me and my friend here defy all that what boring people call ‘logic’.”

Sylvia: “bwaaaahah! Che diabolo! It speaks!” she yells almost dropping the plush before Pyro caught it and made her hold on more tightly.

Pyro: “ Woah carful don't want to drop our good friend Balloonicorn! and Balloonicorn you cheeky winkie what have i told you about doing that?”

Balloonicorn: “Oops sorry i forget that whenever we get a new visitor. I just get so excited to meet a new face that gets to see Pyroland.”

Sylvia: “Uuuh, mind telling me what’s going on? Why is your toy talking to me? What happened to Rockside? I’m so confused” her voice shook as she spoke.

Pyro: Oh no nononono! Please don’t be scared Sylvia. I… I.. I just wanted to you to understand me, to see my happy place and maybe not treat me like a freak… like many others have…"

Sylvia:“Pyro … i’m sorry i don’t think you are freak i just want to know why this is happening.”

Pyro: “oh, Balloonicorn can tell you all that.”

Balloonicorn: “You’re not going to drop me again are you? Because you may need to sit down for this.”

Sylvia: “Of course, please tell me Balloonicorn.”

Balloonicorn: “Well you see Sweetie i come from a land made of the purest joy, happiness, and childhood wonder. Normally i can be seen by children, the pure of heart or those who are very ‘special’ that need a happy place. I go around looking for a very special someone to be my friend and allow them to shape my land of joy so they frolic and play as they see fit and i then take the form of a plush toy that acts as a direct link between this world and the world you know.”

Sylvia: “oh, well i can see why Pyro is your friend Pyro has a very vivid and colorful imagination. But what could possibly make me special enough to understand all of ‘this’?”

Balloonicorn: “Well Sweetie you may not have an imagination like our friend Pyro here and you’r not a kid anymore. But no matter what bad things happen or what mean people do to you and what you do to them, your heart is always in the right place at the end of the day. That’s why you can understand all of ‘this’ that is if i’m not shooting any nonsense your way.”

Pyro: “The others have tried to see into Pyroland using those silly looking goggles…”

Balloonicorn: “…But seeing isn’t always believing and those goggles won’t make the others to understand you…”

Pyro: “i know”

Sylvia: “This is so much to take in.”

Pyro: “But you’re not scared of me are you?”

Sylvia: “Not as much but i still need time to adjust.”

Pyro: “I guess you’re right. To you this is something new and new things can be scary. I should take Balloonicorn back, too much Pyrovision can give you a wicked bad tummy ache.”

Balloonicorn: “Come back anytime Sweetie any friend of Pyro’s is a friend of Pyroland.” the plush toy said before being returned back into Pyro’s possession.

The brightly colored world faded back into the one she knew and she could no longer hear Pyro’s voice. Pyro stayed by the fire sitting still and holding the Balloonicorn plush toy mumbling and humming through the mask even after she began to leave the room. Pyro waved goodbye before she left from sight. Sylvia was heading back to her bedroom recalling this experience in 'Pyroland' and thought about what the plush toy said. She passed by one of the rooms meant to be used by her little cousins. She picked the lock with a bobby pin and unjammed the knob. She entered the room turning on the nursery's lights where she saw the toys were covered in dust formed by the absence of the little ones. Sylvia spent her time reminiscing about the many times she would babysit her cousins for her aunts, remembering all the games they played, the treasured moments they shared and their cute toothless smiles from when some of them were babies (or the older kids who got their teeth knocked out.) She picked up an old drawing one of them made and smiled. Sylvia doubted her little cousins would have any need come to Rockside but she couldn't stand seeing the way this room had become so neglected so spent the night cleaning the nursery. The next day she found Pyro prancing through the halls without a care in the world. Sylvia stopped Pyro taking them by the hand and guided Pyro to the nursery. Pyro walked into the room the vacant look of the mask seemed to light up into an expression of excitement.

Sylvia: It may not be Pyroland but you and Balloonicorn are free to come to this room and play to your heart's content whenever you have the time.

Pyro: hudda murrm? 

Sylvia: Of course, Just make sure that any fires you make stays in the lanterns or the wood stove and if my family needs to use this room you need to share.

Pyro grabbed her by the wrists and began dancing and twirling her around like a game of 'ring around the rosie' she played along and couldn't help but laugh in uncontrollable joy once they hit the floor. Pyro and Sylvia rolled on the floor laughing for no real reason other than to just laugh, having fun in that moment.

Sylvia: " _*sigh*_ this the most fun i have had in a such trying times..." she breathed as she looked up to the ceiling.

Pyro remained silent as they caught their breath.

Sylvia: "Pyro?"

Pyro: "Hudaah?"

Sylvia: "Is this what Balloonicorn meant when he said that my heart was in the right place?"

Pyro: "..."

Sylvia: "It is alright, you do not have to say anything if you don't want to I won't think any less of you for it." She said rolling onto her stomach.

Pyro did the same nesting their head into their hands and kicking their feet in the air. Pyro held out a hand to Sylvia balled into a loose fist then popped out their pinky for a shake. Sylvia giggled and held out hers.

Sylvia: "Of course i would be glad to call you 'friend' " She said as they shook hands and pinky swore.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this my thoughts for Pyro's voice was that it sounds like an adult that's trying like to sound like a child and Balloonicorn sounds like BooBoo from Yogi bear.  
and if you want to listen here's my main ear worm that helped inspired me to write this - To My Dream by S3RL


	2. Momento

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvia approaches Sniper for a token gesture to show her appreciation and takes time to confide in his company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been in writer's hell with multiple unused/unfinished drafts over then months and have been frankenstein-ing my unreleased drafts lately picking parts that aren't a good fit in one draft but go well with another

Sniper felt exhausted after volunteering for night watch for the past few nights, as usual nothing out of the ordinary to report other than wild animals in the nearby woods and a few of the others coming back from their assigned job off base. When he looked at the time it was almost noon he didn't want to get up just yet as he was finally comfortable in his camper sleeping in his bed. He lay in bed barely awake in just his white undershirt and boxers, buried under a warm woolen quilt listening to the birds outside. His pet owl Sir Hootsalot was also sleeping nested inside an oak box mounted on the wall which Sniper covered with dark blue cloth during the day so any light that filtered in wouldn't disturb his feathered friend. He heard a knocking on the thin metal door but ignored it, minutes later another knock at the door, not sure who it was he grumbled irritably twisting himself out of the quilt as he got up and went to the door, whoever it was knocked a third time which was getting on his nerves.

Sniper: “ Oi keep yer fucking knickers on mate i heard you the first time!” He shouted through the knocking. “wot the bloody hell do ya want…” he snapped opening the door and much to his own surprise there she was.

A small frightened squeal escaped her throat as she jumped back away from the doorway. Sylvia dropped something as she ran and hid in the trees, Sniper walked out to see what she dropped. It was the shirt he had loaned her from the night he found her in the bathroom. It was neatly folded and neatly tied together into a box . Based on how it felt in his hands he could tell she had washed it and sewed on new buttons.

Sniper: “i uh aw bugger… he sighed. " Sylvia wait come back!” he called out wishing he hadn’t scared her off .

Sniper was relieved when he saw her peek out from her hiding place but she otherwise stayed still. Knowing this would take time he goes back into his van to get dressed. He comes out wearing a blue shirt, a pair of jeans and loafers. He sits on the final step with the door wide open behind him. He lights a cigarette and watches in the corner of his vision as she reproached him slowly until she stood 5 feet in front of him. She was wearing a summer dress that was a leafy green with a yellow trim, a flowing skirt extending just below the knee, the bodice tight around her tiny waist hugging her curves upwards to the wide open scoop flaring to the thick bands wrapped along her upper arms exposing her ivory skin from her neck to the slopes of her breasts, long white stockings and emerald green flats on her feet and a matching emerald green ribbon held her almost white hair in the long ponytail her bangs which normally framed her face was held back with flower berets which along side her other small pieces of jewelry keeping the same flowery theme speckled her with red and blue, her eyes are covered by sharp cat eye sunglasses with thin silver frames and rose tinted lenses that complemented the peachy completion of her cheeks and rosy pink lipstick. Sylvia looked like a flower, an overdressed flower but a lovely one nonetheless that he couldn't help but take in the sight of her. 

Sniper: “Sorry for earlier... i mean ... Er, Thanks for bring'n the shirt back.” He stuttered an apology.

Sylvia holds her hand close to her chest resting her chin along her finger as she tilts her head.“Consider it as a token of my appreciation, for your polite gesture from that night.” she uttered bashfully her cheeks blushing as she looked at him with her sparkling amethyst eyes.

Sniper got lost in her gaze for a moment before responding "No worries Duchess"

Sylvia: “Why do you call me ‘Duchess? ”

Sniper: “Well, ya sorta act like a princess but i’m not sure if i should be call'n ya that.”

Sylvia: I would prefer you didn't... Solo a min padre è permesso chiamarmi principessa. (only my daddy is allowed to call me princess)” she pouts folding arms over her chest.

Sniper has no idea what she just said and he wasn’t going to pretend to know.

Sniper: “Since you came out of your way just to return a shirt you want to come in for some coffee?” he offers pointing his thumb behind him into the open door of the winnebago.

Her head cocked in curiosity looking over his shoulder to peek inside. After giving it thought she accepted. She walked in the door into the kitchenette with a built-in booth table and fold up couch in its center. A small bathroom and shower across from the closet. Behind that was a small yet spacious room with the main bed and built in shelving.

Sylvia: “Wow. You have just about everything you need in such a small space.”

Sniper:" Not much compared to wot your used ta but it's a comfortable living'" he joked putting on some hot water.

Sylvia: " What i am'a used to is'a four bedroom house on de outskirt town outside Florence' with a fairly comforting view of the sunset " She gave a light chuckle as she sat on the couch.

Sniper: "Outskirts huh? kinda figured ya for a sheltered city girl"

Sylvia: " hm, you are only half right i am'a as you say 'sheltered' as Padre wanted raise me in a more quiet setting, but after so long we never thought to move."

Sniper: " So where did yer dad find you anyway?"

Sylvia:" In'a warehouse "

Sniper: "Don't you mean an orphanage?"

"oh how i wish that were the case, but even i know children do not come from crates filled with jarred fruits and dried fish" she chortles with a hint a playful sarcasm.

"What kind of life did ya have before your dad came along?"

"That of a scavenger... Wondering around slums stealing what was needed to survive. Outsmarting the other street urchins to get de best pickings. And befriending local strays too keep warm at night. No one wanted me and no one cared what happened..." She recounted.

"S'pose your birth parents... " after thinking for a second he didn't finish that sentence as her neck snapped up staring him down with a narrowed gaze.

"... May have brought me into the world but are no famiglia of mine and if they are still out there they better be dead lest i kill them myself! " she hissed in contempt. Sylvia shifted uncomfortably her hands clutching at her arms, the feeling of her fingernails digging into her skin through the silk gloves as she withdrew from the conversation and into her thoughts. 

Sylvia had almost forgotten her birth parents she barely remembers their faces, forgotten the name they gave her at birth if they even bothered to call her anything. Of the few things she remembered was the way they treated her - as a mistake, a burden, like they had been cheated of the child they really wanted. They begrudgingly cared for her seeing to her base needs without much love behind it, leaving the family dog Boris a Saint Bernard to watch over her like a barking nanny that was as big as a small horse Boris was her only friend. She recalled mentions of another baby after her but she was never allowed to go near her mother or her new sibling. Apparently this second child was everything they had asked for and her parents had abandoned her at a church with Boris when she was only three years old.

The church was none too forgiving about her unnatural appearance either from her ghostly pale skin and white hair, her eyes were referred as the eyes only a servant of hell would have. The pastor and nuns would bring her in front of the church goers during sermons as an example of what they would look like if their faith wavered. She also served as a scapegoat for the children who attended church with their families, they would blame her for everything they did wrong and as punishment she would do chores or go without dinner, at those times Boris would fetch her food whenever she would beg to be fed. The church and its followers had completely ostracized her by the time she was four screaming and throwing stones at her just for being in their general vicinity. One night she sat in the church’s courtyard crying with Boris at her side, she didn’t know what it was that set off the dog’s reaction but he began barking and growling relentlessly at something or someone before scruffing her by the clothes on her back jumping the gate, carrying her away from the church and into the city slums.

In the slums no one seemed to know or care who she was the only thing she was grateful for was that she was finally left alone. There she quickly learned that it was every vagrant, tramp and street urchin for themselves. In the mornings she'd be the first one up just to raid the bakery of fresh sweetbreads for breakfast, the afternoons on the hotter days she hid herself from sun as it burned her skin turning it red and blisters formed if she lingered too long, at night she went to the tavern snatching table scraps from the plates of passed out drunks and picking valuables from dumb unsuspecting tourists. She gained a bit of a reputation with the tavern's regulars, they would call her pet names in their native tongues English, German, the many forms of Latin she learned quickly through exposure though she rarely spoke but when she did they laughed and gave her treats.

The slums used to be the only place she could call 'home', Boris and other the stray animals her 'friends', and the local stragglers her 'teachers', but no one was her 'family' no one wanted to keep her and no one cared what happened to her in the end...

Sylvia's train of thought broke as Sniper asked her how she wanted her drink, she had her coffee with cream and chocolate while his was black with nothing special in, he even warmed up biscuits. Sylvia enjoyed his company as they sipped their drinks talking about his home of Australia and all of the many animals he had encountered, tamed, fought and hunted. An owl flew out from the bedroom and perched on his shoulder, Sniper greeted the owl and only then did they realize how late it had gotten, she accepted his offer to walk her back slinking her arm into the bend feeling the tight muscles hold her securely as brushed her hand along his arm and her other holding her skirt they strolled along the foot trail, along the way they took in the evening air of the lush green woodlands that surrounded the mountain.

...

Sniper walked Sylvia up the path to the compound, He glanced over to see her rose tinted glasses were off and her eyes closed, a soft tune hummed as she breathed, the fading daylight washing over her pale ivory skin with a rich hues of orange and then blue as the sunset closed over the horizon. They got to the top of a hill Sniper stopped to watch the last light poking through he looked to Sylvia a sense of warmth welled in his chest as she rested her head on his shoulder. Sylvia tilted her head back her gaze meeting his her eyes were like midnight as Sniper could see the reflection of the night sky pooled in them, the stars glittering her eyes like diamonds. He was mesmerized by her gaze for that moment then he digs his hand into his pocket.

Sniper: "Sylvia I' been meanin' to give this to you and i suppose this is as good a moment as it gets" he said pulling a white ribbon from his pocket.

Sylvia recognized it as one of the countless ribbons she wore but she couldn't quite recall where he could've gotten this one, then she saw stained smudges of blood and it dawned on her.

Sylvia: "That's the ribbon from when we first met!" she exclaimed. 

Sniper: "Yeah! the one you strangled me with..." he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Sylvia: "I am surprised you actually kept that thing i mean look at it, it'a so filthy!" her Italian accent broke through as she roared with laughter.

Sniper: "I tried to clean it but i couldn't get the bloody stains out." he said handing it to her

Sylvia held it in her hand examining it for a few seconds and began she to tie it into a neat bow in her hands, she cupped it in her hands and held it up to him smiling as an affectionate hum urged him to take it.

Sniper: "Why are you giving it back?"

Sylvia: "Here take it as momento, a symbol of my trust." she giggled.

Sniper didn't know what to say but he could tell by the look on her face that she meant it so he took the ribbon back without a fuss putting it in the left breast pocket of his vest. Her cheek flushed, lips curled into a small warm smile as they continued to the compound...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sylvia's backstory was written during a pivotable moment in one of my latest drafts but realized it would be better suited for a less urgent situation, and Sniper so far has been the best character that brings out this aspect of her past such as her early childhood/previous life and for an unknown reason (other than me having a weird crush on Sniper) i ended up making them bounce off each other really well (in my head)
> 
> I'm considering doing completely separate shipping stories with Sylvia to get it out of my system.


End file.
